


where the gold lies

by starr65748



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Background Relationships, Background charthur, Camping, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, MOLLY DESERVED BETTER!!!!, Mutual Pining, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, aka sadie chases molly's skirt bc dutch told her to, arthur said wlw rights, background vandermatthews, maybe micah dies ;], molly does crime >:3, my kink is giving molly the loving relationship she deserved, no one dies, spoilers for chapter 3, while molly spends half the time thinking 'oh no she's hot'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starr65748/pseuds/starr65748
Summary: After Molly leaves the camp under bad circumstances, Dutch orders Sadie to find her and bring her back to camp. What Sadie didn't expect was that during this venture, she might develop feelings for the high strung woman she had never paid much mind, before now.AKA. Sadie and Molly go camping for a few weeks together and end up being hells of thirsty for each other.





	where the gold lies

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the first fic ever for this pairing, which is a crime. This is my version of Molly finally getting what she deserves (a gf who loves her and cares about her very much, and a sense of belonging).

Sadie Adler sat by the waters of Clemens Point, watching as the ducks flew over the water, occasionally descending to the water with a splash, breaking the almost-silence of the camp. It had been a busy week; Arthur had returned from his run in with the O’driscolls, and while the gang was relieved, his injuries were bad enough that he would be out of commission for at least two weeks, meaning more work for the rest of them. Arthur was an important source of income for them, and it seemed Dutch had finally realised just how important, at the rate he was driving everyone else to find new jobs, to up the camp’s funds. This left the site feeling emptier than usual, but Sadie found she couldn’t complain. It gave her time to reflect, and to start to piece the myriads of ways she could tear Colm O’driscoll to shreds.

Today, however, she was having a hard time of it. As peaceful and thought-inducing as the waterfront was, it did little to distract her from the pained pleas of Molly O’Shea. At this point, Sadie suspected everyone in camp was aware of her plight, seemingly thrown aside by the man she loved, all for the sake of whatever new plan the man thought he had concocted. Sadie didn’t doubt Dutch as a leader—he had done well by her after what the O’driscolls put her through, given her a new home—but as a romantic partner, well, she felt sorry for any woman he felt affection for, if this was all it took to let him forget them. And it wasn’t as though Molly wasn’t in the wrong here; she was all but useless as a camp member, only here for Dutch to play with, and now that he had started ignoring her, Sadie guessed her place in the gang wouldn’t last too long. It was her choice for choosing this life, that of crime, of danger. It was her choice for only letting herself be a part of a narrative that depended on an other, for still believing she was better than all of this, instead of just finding her own place in the gang and accepting her role as part of a group, not a couple.

A couple. Sadie’s thumb brushed the cold band of metal that sat on her finger. The last memento of who she used to be—who they used to be. She smiled sadly, caught up in her memories, as Molly uttered a cry of frustration somewhere behind her, and she heard angry footsteps approach the water’s edge. Not wanting to get involved in whatever this mess was, Sadie instead held her ring up before her, watching as the sunlight glinted off it, as bright as the bond it represented. There weren’t a day that went by in which she didn’t think of Jake. She refused to let him be forgotten.

A moment of silence and then, “How.” Sadie glanced up to see Molly leaning against a nearby tree, eyes trained on the wedding ring. “How did you do it? Make it work and all that?” She looked like she had been crying, with her red nose and smudged eyeliner, yet that air of superiority clung to her still. 

Sadie was taken aback for a second; this was the first time the two of them had had a one on one conversation, and she didn’t like the direction this was going. Sure, she had confided in the other girls around camp when she needed consoling in regards to Jake, but she had never even considered Molly as a conversational partner, especially not one with which to share relationship woes (she could see how well her and Dutch’s partnership was going). Words of the lady’s stuck up attitude from the other gang members had gotten in her head, and Sadie had simply paid the Dublin girl no mind. Until now.

She turned back to the water and said nothing, wondering exactly what to say to placate the woman. Apparently, she took too long, because Molly choked out an exasperated laugh. “Oh, I see. You think I’m a joke too, don’t you. I know all the others do. I hear them talk. I—” The words sounded like they were stuck in her throat. Sadie would be lying if she said she didn’t feel any pity for the woman in those moments. She had learnt what it was like to be truly alone, the night Jake was taken from her. She suspected Molly must be going through something similar, no longer loved, not even appreciated by any of the people around her, her every action either judged or ignored. Not only did that sound like a lonely life, it sounded painful. But Sadie wasn’t about to wipe her tears away and offer her comfort. What she needed to hear was the hard, cold truth.

“Listen, Ms. O’Shea,” she said, standing and facing her. “You wanna know one reason Jake and I were so good together? One small reason? Neither of us expected the world of each other, all we expected was love, support, and not just someone to warm our bed at night, but someone willing to share the other’s load, both physically and emotionally. We wasn’t just lovers—we was friends. And we shared everything. Now, you’ve been with this gang a whole lot longer than me, so you must know how much it means to Dutch, how hard he works for all of us. Tell me, Ms. O’Shea, when was the last time you did anything to take that load off his shoulders? And I mean besides keeping his bed warm. Because until you prove to him—to all o’ us—that you can do anythin’ aside from sittin’ there all pretty-like, thinkin’ you’re better than us, I can guarantee that he will forget about you completely. You consider yourself too good to get down to our level of criminal? To be a proper member of this gang? Well it’s the gang that Dutch cares about more than anythin.’ So I suggest you actually show us you can be one o’ us, or you can get out now, before Dutch breaks your heart even further.” 

Molly’s mouth had fallen open, eyes wide. That probably wasn’t what she had wanted to hear. The two stood there, facing each other for a few more seconds, before the redhead slowly shook her head and took a step back. “You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through, Adler. And you’re right. I am better than you. I’m better than all of you!” She turned and began to march towards Dutch’s empty tent. “You want me gone? Fine! I’m gone! Any where’s better than here right now!” 

‘Right now.’ She’d be back, Sadie knew, as she watched Molly sweep her books and makeup into her bag. She had no where else to go, after all. A lady of high society who didn’t even have enough money to go back home, to Dublin. She didn’t regret what she had said; everyone in camp must have thought it at one point or another. Those that thought about Molly at all, that is. She needed to hear it.

“So much for not getting’ involved,” she muttered to herself. She had raised her voice quite a bit there, and was certain that anyone present in camp with half a brain could piece together what had gone down in their brief exchange. She knew Dutch wouldn’t care at all about Molly’s departure. One less mouth to feed. That’s all she seemed to be to him now.

The campfire was crackling noisily as she approached it. Sat in front of it was Arthur, still covered in cuts and bruises. She sat on the log beside him and sighed. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Arthur glanced over to where Molly was struggling to attach her sizeable bags to one of the camp’s draft horses. “I think you did the necessary thing, right or wrong. On top of the extra work Dutch’s got everyone doin’, having to hear their arguments has been gettin’ on all our nerves.” He shot her a grimace of a smile. She was glad he agreed.

“Think you gotta have two people talkin’ for it to count as an argument, Arthur. When was the last time Dutch said more than a word to her?”

“You’re right ‘bout that. Poor thing.” He shook his head and shifted, wincing slightly as he did. “How’s the O’driscoll huntin’ going?”

This was something Sadie would much rather talk about. “Slowly but surely. Well, too slow, to be honest. They’d all be dead right now, if I had my way. All but Colm, who’d be slowly bleeding out in a ditch somewhere while ravens peck at his eyes.”

“In light of recent events, can’t say that ain’t a bad idea, Mrs. Adler,” he chuckled, and they both grinned. Nothing like being horribly wronged by the same man to bring people together. 

The two had built up a small comradery since their little trip into Rhodes together. They greeted each other whenever they saw the other in camp, would occasionally share food or valuables the other had come across, and Arthur was always quick to laugh at her joking remarks about other gang members. It almost felt like a proper friendship, something Sadie had never expected she’d have with an outlaw. 

They sat and talked about nothing for a while, simply enjoying the fire and the peaceful camp.

“We should go hunting together once you’re good and healed,” she announced after a while. “And I don’t mean for food the way you and Charles do. I’m talkin’ scalps. The O’driscoll kind.” She wagged her eyebrows and grinned.

Arthur was beginning to answer when they heard a yell from across the camp. “Why is one of our horses missing?” Dutch began to march over to where they sat.

“Do you think he knows it’s because of what I said?” Sadie chuckles under breath. She felt like a child about to get scolded for pranking the local pastor. She was in a good mood, and being confronted seemed like a fun challenge more than a scolding in that moment.

“Him and the whole camp, I’d bet. You’s weren’t exactly quiet.” She had suspected as much. She didn’t rightly care.

They both straightened as Dutch approached. He looked more angry than worried. “Mrs. Adler, was this your doing?”

“I believe we’re both to blame here, Dutch.” 

Dutch took a sharp breath and glowered at her. “Don’t you dare, Mrs. Adler. Not now,” he said slowly. A warning. “Now you explain to me why all of Ms. O’Shea’s belongings have suddenly vanished, along with that horse.”

“I didn’t know you cared. Although you do seem more concerned with ‘that horse’ than your, what, ex-lover?” Now she was just stirring him up for the sake of it. As harsh as she’d been with Molly, it was coming from a place of helpfulness, not malice. What Dutch had done to Molly was far worse, and Sadie felt little respect for him currently. Arthur watched. She couldn’t tell if he was worried or amused by what was happening. 

“What goes on between me and her is none of your concern—none of anyone’s concern! Do you even realise what you’ve done?” He pointed at her accusingly. “She is known to be a member of our gang. If anyone recognises her, if the Pinkertons recognise her, they will drag whatever information about us and our location out of her, and, right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells them of her own accord, after what you did!”

Sadie stood. “I’m sorry, what I did? You’ve completely abandoned her, Dutch! You don’t care about her safety at all! I’ll admit that I don’t much either, but she’s your woman! If you care that much, why don’t you go after her?”

“She has a point,” Arthur said. Dutch sneered at him.

“This. Does not. Concern. You,” he spat. It was rare to see him this aggressive towards Arthur, and Sadie was taken aback. Was he really that paranoid that he thought she’d rat them out? And even if she did, what’s the worst that could happen? They’d escaped the detectives twice already.

“So why not just move camp? We’ve already done it once. She can’t tell a word if she don’t know where we are.”

Dutch sighed. “I get that you’re relatively new to our little band, Mrs. Adler, but despite what you’ve seen, moving camp every few weeks is not our usual state of being. I refuse to let that woman be the reason we have to change locations again. As for why I don’t go get her, she could have gone anywhere! I don’t have time to spend out there searching for her while there are important matters to deal with!”

Arthur chimed in, “You referrin’ to the Grays and Braithwaites? I think they can wait a few days, don’t you?” Sadie nodded.

“And this is why you ain’t the one making the big decisions, son. You don’t have that keen sense for it, not like me and Hosea.” Sadie didn’t know if that was meant to sound condescending, but she suspected it was. Arthur wasn’t smart, per se, but he was a lot brighter than a lot of the gang gave him credit for. Dutch turned back to her, and after a few seconds of silence, shook his head. “I’m gonna need you to go and find her, Mrs. Adler. Now. Bring her back, don’t, your choice. As long as you make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, that she doesn’t talk.”

“Are…” Sadie raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I kill her?”

“Jesus, Dutch,” Arthur muttered, frowning.

Dutch looked indignant. “I said bring her back, didn’t I? Look, we also need more food. While you’re gone, go hunting or something, would you? Arthur here says you’re good with that revolver.”

“She’s better ‘n good. Downright terrifying I’d say. Don’t know if that’s what you wanna be huntin’ with though.”

“I’m not your damn servant, Dutch. I ain’t gonna just bend over backwards to fulfil all your demands, especially not searching for your woman!” Sadie jabbed her finger into his chest to accentuate her point.

From somewhere behind them she heard Pearson mutter, “We do need more food though…”

Dutch stepped back and rubbed his temple. “You’re nobodies’ servant, Mrs. Adler. We all know that. I have no one else to send out, except Kieran, but can’t say I trust him enough yet either. With Arthur in this state, you’re the only one I can rely on to do this for us, for the gang, not just for me. I can send Charles out to take over for you once he returns, if you’d like.”

Sadie considered this. It was true that those currently at camp were either needed, or probably wouldn’t be able to last three days out there by themselves. She was the only one currently fit for the job. Not that it was a very big job. Molly couldn’t have gone too far. She’d left less than two hours ago, maximum. 

“Fine.” She left it at that.

“You’re doing us all a favour, yourself included,” Dutch called after her, as she went to grab her riffle, and an apple for Bob.

She didn’t reply, simply waved goodbye to Arthur, before she rode off, nodding to Lenny, who was standing guard.

As she rode through Lemoyne, Sadie decided she’d better take care of hunting first. It wasn’t exactly her strong point, especially when it came to not startling whatever her prey was, and she suspected having Ms. O’Shea there with her while she tried to track anything would end in a whole lot of frustration and empty bellies. She could shoot angry men just fine. They usually weren’t trying to run away after all. There was plenty to hunt in the area; she would down a buck, or a few rabbits, find Molly, and then make it back to camp before sundown.

 

After three hours, she was ready to give up. It was mid afternoon when she had left camp, and the sun was getting further west than she was comfortable with. She’d managed to shoot down two ducks, which she assumed would not be enough to satisfy those back at camp. It would have to do for now though. She wanted to find Molly before it got dark, but now the chances of that were looking slim, especially since the redhead had now put three extra hours of distance between them. She needed to hurry.

The first place she would have gone to would have been a town. She was a lady after all, and probably craved the comfort of civilisation, to be among her own. To Rhodes, then? No. Rhodes was far too small and dusty for her ‘refined tastes.’ Saint Denis was more likely, with its high society, and fancy houses. If that was the case, she would have taken the train. She didn’t strike Sadie as the type to waste time riding through murky alligator-riddled swamps when there was a perfectly good railway instead. Sadie started riding towards Rhodes. It held the closest train station to camp after all, so that’s where Molly must have gone.

The man behind the counter of the Rhodes train station confirmed this, saying a well-dressed, though rather dishevelled, Irish woman had come by earlier that day. Sadie couldn’t believe her luck.

“She actually asked for a ticket to Blackwater, not Saint Denis, though. Why? What’s she done?” He stepped closer, lowering his voice and glancing around again as he spoke. “You two in the business of uh…” He mimicked firing to pistols, while looking around suspiciously.

Sadie looked questioningly at the moustached clerk for a second. She didn’t like—or really understand—what he was trying to get at. “What we are ‘in the business of’ is no concern of yours, pal.”

Why go back to Blackwater? As soon as she stepped off that train, she’d surely be shot, or captured. Was she after the long-forgotten Van Der Linde money they had back there? It wasn’t Sadie’s place to question. Her job was simply to… what, capture her and take her back to Clemens Point? This day wasn’t going at all how she had planned. And it was starting to look like this whole operation was going to last a whole lot longer.

She sighed. “Ok then. One… ticket to Blackwater, mister.”

“About that,” the clerk said, returning to a regular stance. “No trains have been going into Blackwater today. Something about ‘gang activity,’” he said making air quotations as he did. “The gal bought a ticket to Valentine instead. Not too far to Blackwater from there, eh?”

No, Sadie supposed not. Now she was curious, however. Just what was Molly planning to do in Blackwater? Was Dutch right in his fears of her selling out on the gang? If she did, she’d certainly have enough money to make it back to Ireland. But would she actually do it? Surely their conversation—or lecture really, as short as it was—wasn’t enough to push her to do something that extreme. Sadie was surprised it had pushed her to do anything at all. Perhaps she’d been at the breaking point, and Sadie’s words had been the final straw. Whatever the reason, Sadie now had another goal; confront Molly about whatever she was planning, and apprehend her if need be.

She slapped a handful of bills onto the counter. “Well. Guess I’ll by buyin’ one ticket to Valentine, thank you.”


End file.
